


Regrets and Restarts

by Shatterpath



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Police, Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking to Cope, F/F, Gen, Pre-Relationship, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-23 00:58:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17070497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: Cop Alex is lost in whiskey and regrets, but sometimes, no matter how great the pain, there still can be a second chance.This may not requite the 'Graphic depictions of violence', but I wanted to play it safe. Some memories of gunfire and how things can go wrong, but I don't dwell on it.





	Regrets and Restarts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheOnlySPL](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOnlySPL/gifts).



> So while my dear TheOnlySPL gave me the out for using either Lena or Astra opposite Alex, she doesn’t get enough GeneralDanvers love and this IS a gift after all! So I did my best to homage another of your favorite tough ladies with an idea inspired by old-school SVU. Happy Holidays, Sweetie.
> 
> The prompt was: Law & Order AU - Alex is the cop and Astra or Lena is the lawyer. (Please do not include both Astra and Lena - only one)  
> Brief as this is, I hope it gives you a thrill!
> 
> I wanted to delve all we love and ache over about Alex/Astra; the agony of star-crossed lovers destined to burn out in violence, but nonetheless we always wished for a happier ending. Hope you all enjoy.

It happened fast.

Too fast to stop. Too fast to alter. Too fast to save either of them.

The violent gang Inze had been pressuring for months did what any cornered predator does. They pushed back. Threats escalated to a few incidences that twigged Alex's instincts past 'coincidence', but Astra refused to take them seriously. Like happened all too often, Alex was torn between wanting to throttle the haughty bitch or throw her against the wall to kiss her senseless.

Too deep in the closet, too desperate to prove herself, too temperamental and smart for her own good, Alex ignored the constant feel of 'what if' that blazed hotly through her every time she had to face those cool blue eyes in that beautiful, strong face…

Like too many damn nights for too damn long, the nightmares and what-ifs plagued her past sleep. With the familiar confines of her apartment feeling like they were closing around her like a fist, Alex grabbed her stuff and bolted. It had been a year and a half and she still felt like an open wound, the memories like leeches on her soul.

Despite Astra's irritated protests, Alex and her partner had stuck close. Well, as close as they could manage with the surprisingly slippery ADA. A woman that tall and that striking, in high heels even, should not be so hard to keep track of. But Alex had persevered, dogged and desperate to keep Astra safe. Why? She was never sure. Was it only duty? Or did she want to know what might lay beyond the minefield of what-ifs…

Still, as big a pain in the ass trying to protect Astra had been, Alex couldn't ignore the tickle of her instincts that something was wrong. Oh, but how she had wished she'd been wrong.

It replayed in her mind a thousand times a day, the tunnel vision of intent focused past the little bump of gunsight on the barrel of her glock, lined up with the assassin, the buck of the machine even as he yanked something from the shadows, the jerk of both his body and the person he had pulled to him, the spray of blood, and the falling, falling, falling…

She'd known it was Astra even as she lowered the gun, horrified by what had just happened. It was well tuned instincts, the shape of her body even in the big coat, the horrible choked-off scream of agony as the bullet punched through them both…

Alex had just known.

Time had changed the hammer of awareness and agony of the immediate to a dull throb that never left her, like a bullet lodged near her heart. Sometimes she felt like she was going to choke on it, everything good in her washed away in guilt, tears and drink.

The taxi dropped her off at an obscure watering hole where she had some small chance of staying away from those whose concern just made her feel worse. Nothing would ever make her feel anything past loathing for that bullet.

A gesture to the barkeep that knew her well had her usual on the bar top even as she stripped her jacket to sit on it atop the barstool. 

"To what could have been," she muttered over a couple of ponies of better brand whiskey and sent them down to prepare for the flood behind them. It was a good excuse to ignore the urgent buzz of her phone in her pocket, again and again and again…

No amount of therapy or sympathy or anger or booze could drown out how she'd felt in those moments, in the blur of watching EMTs descend from the nearby hospital, to hours later when the captain had somberly told the precinct that ADA Inze had died in the attack.

No one looked at Alex, but she could feel the weight of the stares nonetheless. And she hadn't been able to touch a gun since. Oh, she'd tried, but she would shake and panic, the final time finally dropping the loaded pistol and once again endangering innocents.

Thankfully, the CSI team was happy to have her and she split classroom study with being in the field. Her head full of police knowledge and years of experience had come in handy frequently. Though she still got shaky over the gunshot victims that came across their path, much preferring the scut work around the perimeter at those scenes. 

In some ways, Alex was happier as a CSI, away from the start of the violence that gave her purpose. At least there she couldn't kill anyone…

Slowly the whiskey scoured off the most jagged edges, softened the constant pain and self-loathing. Too many days it was her sole relief and the only way that she could sleep.

"One more for the road, Sam?" she teased blurrily and ignored how she was resorting to probably the most annoying thing she could say to a bartender. Still, she always made sure to tip decently to make up for her lame drunken humor. A last shot glass of amber relief was set in front of her in trade for a credit card and she looked at it before raising it to her lips.

"Danvers!"

The shout made her pause and squint, shocked to see her old partner in the doorway. Falsely jovial the way only a drunken soul in pain can be, she shouted back, "hey, Su--"

And her voice choked off as effectively as a bullet striking.

Taller and more imposing than her old partner was the ghost who kept nightmare and fantasies well-fueled. Alex didn't even notice the glass that slipped from nerveless fingers to splash across her boots.

It couldn't be.

With a powerful, intent stride --the same one Alex had loved to watch even if she couldn't admit why-- Astra covered the distance between them, her expression distraught and happy all at once. Alex jumped and flinched at the touch of hands on her body, the scent she never knew she'd even noticed, the firm softness of the body she was pulled into.

"Oh Alex, I begged them to let me contact you, I swear I did," Astra whispered harshly and her voice and the feel of her made Alex's fuzzy head spin. "But there was a little boy whose safety I could have compromised and we had to stay in hiding. God, Alex, I only stayed away because of him. I swear…"

It had to be a dream, one more layer of nightmare to torture her. Only… this didn't hurt. The grip around her ribs was solid, the broad shoulders under her hands, the blue eyes free of any coolness, awash in tears. Still trapped somewhere between disbelieving and wondering if any of this was real, Alex leaned back as far as she could.

"I killed you."

The whisper was harsh, whiskey-soaked, heavy as a cracking planet with pain and self-loathing. The press of soft lips between her eyebrows burned like fire.

"You did not. My poor, sweet Alex. Despite the bullet, you gave me a chance." The hug tightened, tucking Alex's head into Astra's neck, the grounding kisses playing over her scalp. "You gave me a chance. And it saved me."

It reverberated though her like an echo, a shout in a featureless room, a train whistle down a long tunnel. 

A chance.

And at long, long last, Alex was able to weep tears that tasted, felt different. They might have been something like hope.

Like a chance.

And it might save them both.


End file.
